Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to it. I own Stephen Collins, is all. By the way, is anyone happy about Deathly Hallows being released in July? Can I get a wh00t, wh00t?!!!!!!!!!
vea, I know you love Stephen, and pity his Paul Dano-esque bones. This chapter is for you.
Stephen
He remembers, remembers with great clarity, the first time he ever saw Lily Evans, really opened his eyes and saw her.
She was a pretty girl, this had always been apparent to him, but that knowledge had never really entered his mind in any significant way until a few years after he first met her, a little while after his raging hormones had started to alter his perception of the fairer sex, after his voice had broken and after he had had his first kiss (messy and somewhat frightening) with that little blonde Hufflepuff from the year above him. His 'crush' on Lily took root some time in third year after he witnessed her jump into the Great Lake on a dare, emerge giggling and soaking wet just under a minute later and call upon the Giant Squid to invite her down for tea. Most of the watching students thought she was mad, attention-seeking or both, but the truth was that she just couldn't back down from a challenge. Lily was, is and always will be, entirely fearless.
He, on the other hand, is a complete coward. There were many occasions spanning three years on which he almost, almost plucked up the courage to ask her out on a date, but never quite managed it. He is firmly convinced that she wasn't even aware that he existed for a long time. It wasn't until one particularly wet, miserable day in sixth year when he thought, 'To hell with it,' and asked her to accompany him to Hogsmeade. He remembers how she looked that day, stomping into the Entrance Hall with muddy books and shoes, sporting a scowl and cursing under her breath. He figured that if she turned him down whilst in the throes of a temper tantrum, then at least he could always console himself with the weak hope that maybe she had only said no because she was in an awful mood. So he accosted her there and then and to his absolute astonishment, not only did she say yes, but she literally jumped at the offer. In fact, she spent the entire duration of their conversation hopping from one foot to the other; he's never actually asked her why she did that.
They went out on a date, and then another, and then another, and now a whole year has passed.
An entire year passed, and Lily bounds into the Astronomy tower, breathless and dizzy. His heart swells with the familiar feeling he experiences when in her presence, the same feeling he has experienced since their very first date. A whole year.
"I'm sorry I'm late, sweet- oh my! This is beautiful!"
Lily jumps on the spot with delight, casting an awestruck look at the ceiling above her head. He has taken her to the Astronomy tower many, many times before, but there is always a moment in which she is rendered speechless by the millions of twinkling, glittering constellations and the hoards of hazy, purple clouds. Lily is easily moved by beauty. She once told him that only man-made things are ugly and that nature is the closest thing to perfection one can ever hope to see. He argues that she is far more beautiful than anything he could observe through a telescope. She will scoff at his romanticism when he tells her this, slapping his arm and calling him a pansy. He is used to it. It is an old, familiar routine that he thinks he will never tire of.
She tired of it long ago, he knows.
"Were you held up?" he asks, holding out a hand for her to come and join him. She takes a few steps towards him and then stops, her attention still diverted by the scene above her. She is in an uncommonly good mood tonight, he notices. Her face is flushed and rosy. Her fingers twitch with restless energy. She smiles with the air of one who has a delightful secret, one who is about to embark on an exciting journey, or one who has fallen in love, that giddy, unexplainable love that can only happen once, when one is young. It is how he feels for the girl standing three feet away from him.
"Yes," she replies in a faraway voice. "Meeting difficulties."
"Potter again?"
"Isn't it always?" she says, looking down momentarily to grin impishly at him. Her eyes travel upwards once more and her voice takes on a hint of bitterness. "Bloody prat."
He can't answer that question. He chooses to ask another.
"We certainly picked a fantastic night for an Astronomy tower picnic, didn't we?"
She nods excitedly and gazes upwards once again. Her hair tickles her elbow as she tilts her head back and she compulsively slaps it away. Unperturbed, it resumes its elbow-tickling and she pulls it roughly over her shoulder. Lily complains constantly about her wayward hair. It gets in the way too much, she is wont to say, hissing through gritted teeth as she tries to hold it off her face in the library, or whenever she finds a stray strand in her mouth. He has long since learned that suggesting she cut it is about as effective as attacking a Salamander with a flaming torch. As much as her hair exasperates her, long it is and long it will remain for all of eternity, or at least until she tires of it.
She cut it short once, back in sixth year. He remembers returning to Hogwarts after the Christmas holidays to find his girlfriend sporting a chin length bob and chattering happily about the benefits of 'chopping off that curse'. He remembers thinking that she looked beautiful, and also remembers that he was not the only one who did. She received numerous compliments from friends and admirers, all telling her how grown up and sophisticated that hairstyle made her look. Even Professor Sprout stopped her in the corridor to tell her how becoming she was.
But a week later she was using growth charms and thickening potions as if they were going out of fashion, impatient as always. He questioned her motives for this more than once. Whenever he asks her why, she tells him that she looks prettier with long hair, that she didn't feel like herself without it and that she missed having something there to keep her neck warm. She is sincere in her argument, she always is, but maybe she was lying to herself even then. Maybe she wasn't. Maybe he is grasping at straws. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
He hadn't liked it.
…
"You're a daft cow Evans, why'd you cut your hair?!" The stupid boy had asked her, parking his skinny bottom on her desk and barely missing her mounds of parchment.
"More to the point, Potter, why don't you cut your hair?" she replied tartly, shooting him a scathing look before returning to her essay. Potter was accompanied by his usual posse that day, although Remus and Peter seemed to be the only people who were actually interested in using the library. Black just stood beside him with that contemptuous smirk on his face. Stephen isn't sure what to think of Sirius Black, he always looks as if he knows something he shouldn't, something on the wrong side of the acceptable.
Lily was unruffled by their presence, she has always been a lot more at ease around the Marauders than Stephen has. She had gotten used to James' frequent interruptions by this time. Even then she might have enjoyed them. How Stephen wishes he has a Pensieve, because his own memory seems to enjoy altering itself to suit his mood. Sometimes Lily's actions on that day indicated that she was annoyed by Potter's presence at the table, and sometimes they indicated that she was positively gleeful. Stephen isn't sure what to think anymore, only that such a stupid memory should not be dissected and obsessed over so much, but he can't help it.
"I don't need to. My hair is gorgeous. Like yours used to be," Potter retorted, ruffling his own shaggy mane.
"What's wrong with my hair?" she asked, looking genuinely put out.
He nudged her knee with his foot.
"It's naff."
"Naff?!"
"It doesn't look right. I liked it better before," was all he said by way of explanation before darting forwards to wrap an arm around her neck and bury his nose in her hair for the briefest of moments. He grinned cheekily at the look of utter outrage and embarrassment that crossed her delicate and now roaring red features when he pulled away.
"At least it still smells the same."
…
She drops onto the blanket beside him and plants a kiss on his temple.
Could it have been going on since last year, he wonders? Probably not, Stephen knows that he may or may not be making mountains out of molehills with such theories.
She still tells him that she loves him every day, sounding just as sincere as she did on the first day she said it. Most of the time he will say it first, but she still says it off her own bat from time to time. She is not lying to him because she really, truly believes that she does. And maybe because he's pathetic, or frightened, or just plain stupid, he tells himself that she really does mean it. He pretends. There are times when he does a bloody good job of it too. For the most part it's not difficult. She shows him affection on a daily basis, listens to what he has to say and actively seeks out his company. These are not the actions of a girl who does not care for her companion, she does, very much so. He is sure of that, at least.
What he finds hardest to understand is exactly how this could have happened. There is no logical reason. Maybe if there was, Lily would be able to see the problem for herself instead of flitting about the castle in complete denial.
Stephen has always been the best boyfriend possible. He's made sure to always be sweet and kind and caring. He tells her every day how beautiful she is and how wonderful his life has been since she came blazing into it. He's never pushed her into doing anything she wasn't comfortable with, taken her unreasonable mood swings on the chin and never, ever dared to treat her with anything other than utmost respect. She tells him that he sees her through rose-tinted glasses but he doesn't think so. She really is perfect, she always has been. So why should he tell her anything to the contrary? Stephen is not an arrogant fellow, but he knows that he is the type of boyfriend that most girls would give anything for. He has witnessed many of Lily's comrades weeping on her shoulder because they have been treated horribly by the object of their affections.
But Potter, Potter is a different kettle of fish altogether. He is, despite what some people may say, still as arrogant as he was when he swaggered into the castle on day one and shoved a wiggling flobberworm down Lily's jumper. In Stephen's eyes, Head Boy-ship has sent his ego soaring to an even higher level. He flirts with her too, suggesting things that Stephen wouldn't even suggest when they are alone. He gets her in trouble sometimes, he messes with her head and he pops up out of nowhere to interrupt her conversations with other people as if he has a perfect right to. Sometimes he picks fights with her just so he can have the pleasure of ruining her day.
But what annoys, confuses and infuriates Stephen most of all is that Potter had never been afraid to insult her.
"Evans, you don't half piss me off sometimes. Have you always been that annoying or is it just for my benefit?"
"No, no, no, Evans, you're doing it all wrong. The wand goes in an anticlockwise direction! Anti-clockwise. Are you getting that? Am I saying it slowly enough for you?"
"Evans, you daft cow!"
"Watch your backs lads, it's the shrew coming. What do you think crawled up Evans' arse and died today?"
But despite all of this, it is Potter she looks at, Potter she talks about, and Potter who causes her eyes to gleam with unadulterated excitement. It is that ephemeral sparkle that is rarely seen in her eyes anymore. Even in a magical place Hogwarts, her life has become prosaic and humdrum. She doesn't tell him as much, but Stephen knows her, he knows her better than she knows herself. He knows that whenever Lily breezes into the room with that look in her eyes and the corners of her mouth curling into a satisfied smile, it's because of him. Even if they've had a nasty argument, in fact, arguments with Potter are what she enjoys most.
Oh, he's seen her argue with Potter, all it takes is a few choice words from the ratty haired idiot and she's off, denouncing him like there's no tomorrow and professing her undying hatred over and over again. All that registers with Stephen is that when Lily hates Potter, which she does often, she hates him with more passion and more fervor than that which she has ever loved Stephen. She complains and whines and curses herself for whatever she did in a past life that got her landed with Potter in this one every time, and just like when she is telling Stephen she loves him, she really does believe it.
But Stephen knows better. He knows that her pride would never allow her to admit, even to herself, something that everybody else could see happening years ago.
"Are you ok, sweetheart? You erm, you seem to be a little quiet today."
He tells her that he's fine, just a little tired. She seems satisfied with that answer and diverts her gaze back up to the stars.
He knows that she is unhappy. He is positive that unless someone gives her the jolt that she needs to make her see sense, the future will see the two of them married, perhaps even with children. They always talked about getting married one day. Lily never seemed to be as keen on it as Stephen, but he understood that. She wants to do other things before she gets married. She told him before that nothing or nobody will ever convince her to get married before she is thirty. Lately he is beginning to think that she just doesn't want to marry him. Stephen knows what she wants, oh, what Lily wants is clearer to him than to anyone else.
Potter must not know; must never know. Potter watches her like a hawk, watches her through the eyes of a desperate, helpless man, one who loves her even more than Stephen does. He watches her, but he doesn't see what Stephen does. Potter gave up hoping long ago, even if he hasn't stopped trying. So he must never know.
He knows in his heart that he should confront her about it, make her see clearly, but he can't. As much as he hates to see her like this, as much as it sickens him to know that there is someone else she cares for more than he, he is positive that it would be worse to lose her altogether. Does it make him weak? Probably. Does it make him selfish? Yes, but then Lily is not any ordinary girl. She is something spectacular, something that any man with sense would kill to hang on to. He thinks it makes him human. Who wouldn't want to cling on to the best thing that ever happened to him?
Potter certainly would.
So he says nothing.
